


Clipper

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-25
Updated: 2006-02-25
Packaged: 2018-08-15 16:41:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8064004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: The events of "Fortunate Son" from multiple points of view. (07/01/2002)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: Spoilers: Fortunate Son  


* * *

Archer:

The call came through early in the morning and by the time we were assembled on the Bridge relieving gamma shift it was nearly 0500. The atmosphere was restrained and professional as we diverted to the distress call of a freighter by the name of Fortunate. Star Fleet made it clear that our priority was to seek them out and render assistance. I remember as I sat there with nearly zero pertinent information that I hoped the ship was as lucky as its name.

Reed:

I have never cared for ships like this. I much prefer thoroughbreds like Enterprise. I have to hand it to people that stand the duty of going from place to place, endlessly supporting commerce. However, it would be much too slow and much too dull for my tastes. The danger factor is something to be concerned about. That is, the potential for the kind of danger that is interesting to me. Pirates prey on these kind of ships like crocodiles. Still, it wouldn't be enough ... broken moments of sheer terror scattered among endless years of utter boredom. Give me Enterprise anytime.

Tucker:

The ship was pretty beat up. The Captain had to practically arm twist them to accept help. Travis told me about how independent and contrary freighting crews can be. I suppose if you have to spend years getting from one place to another you learn to stand on your own two feet. Still ... it was an interesting proposition upgrading and refitting that old ship. What I wasn't prepared for was their reluctance and their tension. Of course, we didn't know what they were up to at the time. That would come later. 

T'Pol:

The Captain of this ship is an efficient man in some ways and incomprehensible in too many more to count. Humans are becoming less opaque in some ways. There are times when I can actually understand them with less effort than in the past. However, First Officer Ryan is the sort of human that I have little rapport with. He's emotional, illogical, independent to a fault and given to prevarication. As difficult as it is for me to decipher the many and myriad ways that humans think and interact, I prefer the relatively constrained and professional manner of the humans on board Enterprise to the savage and uncivilized specimens on Fortunate. Taking children along on deep space voyages, even if it encompasses a lifestyle the way deep space commerce requires is more than illogical. It is reckless endangerment.

Mayweather:

It was nice talking to boomers again. My family and I had always been in space. I don't have memories of living on a planet. Until I joined Star Fleet, ground time was limited to ports of call and the odd, very rare vacation. We were certified spacers one and all. Sometimes the allegiance to a solid place that others have, such as with the Earth seems as foreign to me as my life as an out-worlder must appear.

It was good talking to Ryan but the words he said in the Mess Hall stung. It stung deep. My family is everything to me but I wanted more. My father is the greatest man in my life. I saw him stand up to anything and everything from the time I was born. He let me go because he knew I needed to leave. Ryan doesn't know what he's talking about.

***

Later that same day ...

They walked through the ship, signs of struggle on the hulls and burned out circuits greeting them. Jonathan turned and entered the Bridge, sounds of refit already under way. The First Officer, Ryan, stood behind him silently, a stern look on his face as he listened to Archer talk. 

Reed stood nearby, watching the exchange. It was going one way and he considered the boomer's recalcitrant attitude. His own experience with boomers was limited to Travis Mayweather and a couple of other people he had met on his way through Star Fleet. Having his eye on a ship worthy of the latest in technological gadgetry and speed, he had overlooked the lesser class ships in his desire to join Enterprise. 

"You should accept our help," Archer was saying. "We'll be here three days anyway."

Ryan stood firmly for a moment and then slowly acquiesced. Reed felt his own tension lighten as he watched Archer's face. The pleasant look on Jonathan's face was a shield for the unwavering determination that he knew animated his captain. He would pursue his offer to help them come hell or high water, offering Ryan a face-saver concocted out of his own good manners and professionalism.

It bothered Reed that Ryan didn't accept. There seemed to be another dimension to his stubbornness but in the end Archer prevailed and they began to divide up, Archer and himself heading for the shuttle. They left the group behind, entering the hatch and the shuttle, sealing the door behind them. Reed sat beside Archer and watched as he broke the seal and smoothly arced back toward Enterprise.

"That was interesting," Reed said dryly. 

Archer grinned, glancing at his lover. "You have a way with understatement."

"It's a genetic trait. I *am* British don't you know?" he replied, the ghost of a smile on his face.

"I remember," Archer replied as they received instructions to dock. "I don't know what's up here but it feels wrong all the way around."

Reed nodded. "I know."

They docked and left the shuttle, walking to the lift together. Entering, Archer called the Bridge and leaned back against the wall, considering things. Reed watched him silently, musing on Archer's pugnacious tenacity toward problems.

"Any hints or are you still working it out?" he asked. 

Archer glanced at him and grinned. "It's still in process."

Reed snorted slightly. "Ah, American for you don't know what's going on yet."

Archer grinned and patted Reed's butt just before the lift came to a halt. Reed grinned, a red tinge appearing on his cheeks in spite of himself. 

"Duty calls," Archer said, moving past his silent and slightly befuddled partner. 

Reed watched him go and sighed, enjoying intensely once again Archer's unpredictability. Given his own cautious nature, a gentle love pat on the ass just before the lift door opens wasn't in the realm of possibility. Torpedoing the second moon of planet X, well ... that was another matter all together. With a sigh of pleasure, he stepped forward and entered the Bridge once again.

***

Two days later, mess hall ...

"You look tense."

Archer glanced up, meeting the calm eyes of his tactical officer. He sat back, coffee cup in hand and watched as Malcolm Reed sat down across from him.

"You don't often come into the working man's lounge," Reed said, blowing on his tea.

Archer grinned. "You don't seem to have a problem with me being here."

"No, but then I've seen you naked."

The last words were barely spoken and even as they were Reed flushed furiously. He sat his cup down and grimaced.

"I can't believe I said that."

Archer bit his lip and nodded, grinning at Reed's discomfort.

"I can't either. I'm proud of you," Archer said with a chuckle. 

Reed's eyes darted nervously around and then he sighed, looking at Archer ruefully.

"You're a bad influence upon me, Yank."

"I hope so," Archer agreed smoothly. 

Reed sighed and picked up his cup, taking a slight sip. It was too hot so he put it down and considered his sandwich. 

"We're going soon aren't we."

"We are," Archer replied. "I can't offer more than I have. We have a mission ahead of us and we have to get back."

"I couldn't do what they do. I would die of boredom," Reed said, staring at the cup in Archer's hands. They were good hands, big and strong and he loved them, the way they made him feel. He mentally shrugged off the image and sighed, concentrating on the conversation. "I would rather be here on this ship than any place else in the universe."

"I'm glad," Archer replied, grinning. "Me too."

"T'Pol to Archer."

"Archer here," he said, leaning back in his chair slightly.

"I need to speak with you in private, Captain."

"Understood," Archer said, rising. "See you later?"

"Sure," Malcolm replied, smiling slightly. 

He watched as Archer turned and walked to the recycler, putting his things away. He left the room and it felt less warm. Behind Malcolm, rising and going away too, Matthew Ryan walked out the door to who knew where. Malcolm noted the look on Travis Mayweather's face, a look of anger and hurt. He wondered what it was about and put it aside. That was someone else's business and he seldom butted in, if ever. 

Such was his personality and the nature of his life to keep himself out of other people's private business. Besides, he always heard things on the ship's grapevine. As long as his name and Jonathan's never showed up, he was okay with things as they were. He continued his lunch in silence.

***

A day or so later, on the trail of Fortunate ...

They found their quarry after long range sensors came online. Sitting at the conn, Travis watched as the ship came into view. The drop from warp had revealed a damaged freighter surrounded by three alien ships, Naussicans in configuration and it appeared that there was a fire fight going on inside her battered hull.

Reed watched intently, his gaze rotating from his panel to the screen and to his captain again. Under his sure hands the ship was ready to fight and he waited for the pulse-racing order from his captain. At moments like this, when they were all together, he never thought of Archer in personal terms. They were a group working together to manage a moment, save a catastrophe or solve a problem. The personal dimension didn't exist.

"I'm offering you an opportunity," Archer was saying, talking to the strange figure on the screen and getting very little achieved. They were a bellicose race, the Naussicans and he had little time for them himself. 

There was a heated exchange, Travis interjecting himself and then shooting began. The moment of combat was exhilarating and even though he seldom told anyone how much he enjoyed it, he always did. Perverse streak, he had finally decided. He didn't like to hurt things but he loved blowing things up. It was a dichotomy he seldom explored with any depth. He chalked it off to nature.

In the flash that it happened, it was over. Ryan's anger was evident even as he surrendered his prisoner and Reed could see Archer's tension drain away when it was clear that he had complied. Archer was always tense and taller it seemed at moments like that. His will as ever was implacable and in the end he had forced the conclusion he had wanted. He was good at that, Reed considered even as the Naussican ships moved away.

Relaxing slightly, his eyes ever vigilant, he watched as Travis' skilled hands edged the Enterprise alongside the stricken freighter. For the next day or two, they would be guarding her even as they worked to put her back together again. Then, when they were safely on their way, they would be back on their mission once more.

***

2110 ...

"You're late."

Malcolm shrugged helplessly as he hit the locking device on the lounge door. Jonathan sat by the window, his feet up and a glass in his hand. A small bottle and another glass sat on the low table in front of him. Reed grinned slightly, moving to stand in front of him.

"You look comfortable."

"I'm not. Pick up your glass and join me."

Malcolm picked up the glass half filled with amber liquid and sat down beside his captain, settling against the bigger man's chest. A strong arm encircled him and he relaxed against it, the weariness of a long day falling away.

"Now I'm comfortable," he said, sipping the liquor in his glass. 

Reed grinned and took a sip, wrinkling his nose slightly. "Nice stuff. Your own personal supply?"

"A freighter captain offered me a drink. I was on duty and I couldn't take it. So ... I'm having it with you," Jonathan said, clinking his glass against Malcolm's. He leaned in and kissed Reed, a soft and tender brush. Reed sighed, his breath warm against Archer's lips. 

"I'm comfortable too," Reed replied. 

"Good."

They were silent a moment and then Reed shifted, settling in closer.

"Do you suppose we'll have more run-ins with the Naussicans? I don't think they'll take this business lightly."

"I don't think so either," Jonathan agreed. "I don't like pirates."

"Nor do I," Reed agreed. "I would blow the bastards up too if they attacked me like this. They have their own law out here."

"They had," Archer corrected. "Things are changing now and for better or worse, they have to get used to it."

"There's a new sheriff in town then," Reed said with a grin.

Archer smiled and squeezed his shoulders. "Yeah. I guess so. I suppose this makes you one of my deputies."

Reed grinned. "I'll settle for that. I don't have the legs to be school marm."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Archer said, taking the glass from Reed's hand and setting it on the table with his own. "I wouldn't say that at all," he whispered softly.


End file.
